


Doctor Jones' Monster

by Cloudpain



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Drama, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 07:14:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2141904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudpain/pseuds/Cloudpain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A hero with a god complex builds a man to love him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doctor Jones' Monster

Alfred pushed his hair back out of his face and dashed the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his lab coat. His lip was pressed between his teeth anxiously as he hunched over the body, suture needle in one hand, the other holding the skin together. It wasn’t that the lab lights were hot - on the contrary the whole place had to be cool to keep the pieces fresh as possible, but if he managed not to screw up he would be finished by the end of the day - finished making his man. His Matt. At last!   
  
That Matthew Williams in his cold little hut in the snow, he would rue the day he rejected Alfred’s affections. They worked in similar fields so it would be easy, once he was done, to flaunt his success in Matthew’s face. That was how all this had begun.

  
 They had been they had been together at university, but Alfred had been popular, a medical, science and pseudo science genius loved by all. Matthew, though bright, had shunned most of their classmates, preferring to spend indecent amounts of time with the Head of Department, Prof Arthur Kirkland (that pompous prat) discussing MagickTheory. _Firstly how pretentious, its magic, just call it magic, none of this extra k nonsense, you prig, Kirkland._ Not many of the students took to Magick Theory, as it leaned too far toward the other end of science. Despite Prof Kirkland being in charge however, Alfred had toughed it out and was now so very glad that he had.  
He had always had his eye on Matthew, the pretty, blond boy sitting quietly in the corner of every class.

  
But after graduating, the two of them had wound up in the same research facility situated somewhere on a murky border between America and Canada. They had only been there a couple of years before Matthew had made huge and notable headway in his studies on insulin. He had become rather a big wig, was well liked by most of their colleagues, and actually ran in the same circles that Alfred did.

Alfred had spent a lot of time and effort on the pretty little dork. Well not so little -he had about an inch on Alfred, but he would never admit it because the guy had a wussy personality, likeable, but a complete pushover. That was why Al had taken particular offense when Matthew had turned down his affections.

  
Al had propositioned him at a celebratory booze up, after Matthew had made some insightful discovery (Alfred wasn’t really sure what it was about, he was in DNA and Human Engineering, which was far more exciting than medicine for weaklings by any standards). Matthew had turned him down then and Alfred had thought it was cute - Matthew being quaint. The guy was probably too honest for his own good and hadn’t wanted to take advantage while Alfred was drunk. He had even driven Al back home after the party and tucked him in bed, when he had been too plastered to walk straight.  But a couple of months went by and Alfred ended up asking him out directly, making his feelings and intentions infinitely clear while sober so that Matthew could not act like it had not happened this time.

 

The answer had come so swiftly it almost felt like a physical blow to Alfred.  
 “No, Al. I told you last time. I don’t think it’s appropriate, us being work colleagues and all. And that aside, we would make really unsuitable lovers don’t you think? We both want such different things out of life.”

  
Alfred had been incensed. Different things? What Alfred wanted was Matthew, and what the Canadian was clearly saying was that he did not want Alfred. What right did a little nothing-pixie like Williams, have to break Al’s heart? Al, Alfred F. Jones, who was the hero of every woman and many men’s most hedonistic fantasies?   
  
For a week Alfred had locked himself in his house and not come out, using the time to pour over his old textbooks on medical and Magical theory (he refused to acknowledge the ‘k’). He had emerged smiling darkly. He had a solution and Matthew Williams be damned.

  
Alfred had started the project he now worked on and barely slept and ate between. If he couldn’t have Matthew Williams he would just make his own. Without consulting the senior scientist, Alfred had begun to build himself a Matthew, better, stronger, with nicer hair and accidentally a little shorter than the Canadian who had spurned him. (Alfred would never admit to being pissed that Matthew was taller than him) He had used a strand of Matthew’s hair to get his projects looks and DNA just right while growing organs and tissue, so, apart from the slight gene tweaks, his creation would be Matthew Williams in every sense that mattered. 

That was until he ran out funding a week or two ago. Luckily Francois Bonnefoy, (the senior researcher) was weird, and had a thing for Al so he hadn’t been mad or reported him when he found out. But because they had not gained pre-approval, they could not very well request more funding. It was fine; Al had assured Bonnefoy, he had more than enough money of his own to finish the project.

  
After all, once this was done, after he brought Matthew 2.0 to life, he would be _his_ – forever.

  
Tying off the fifth knot at the end of the procedure, Alfred sighed in satisfaction and straightened up stretching his back out. He peered down at his creation.

He was beautiful, Matt, lying there with his defined nose, strong jaw and pre-delineated abdominal muscles. Alfred traced a finger down the torso. With the high metabolic rate he had coded Matt for, the man would never have to worry about getting fat.   
He patted his own stomach. He had lost weight in the weeks he had been working on Matt, but there was still a bit of a tummy there, he hadn’t had time to hit the gym. More’s the pity he couldn’t re-code his own DNA.

  
The first smile he had borne in weeks spread across his face. All that remained was applying the spell. He was so close and Matt was perfect, flawless apart from the neat thin lines of joining sutures. The spell should sort those too.  
The loud shriek of the lab door being flung open made Alfred jump and he tried not to let annoyance show on his face as Francois flounced into the room.

  
 “What is this Alfred you are looking ‘appy,” the Frenchman said his accent was laid on thick.

 

Alfred knew the older man was perfectly capable of speaking clear, understandable English, he had heard him on the phone once. But for whatever the reason he acted and spoke in a way that was as French as humanly possible. Perhaps he thought it added charm? For Alfred it added irritation.

 

It may just have been a lack of sleep however that was urging him to knock the foppish man out cold, so he drew in a deep breath and looked back at Matt. He didn’t need to fake the grin that spread across his face.

“Yes, I just finished putting him together. With your approval I’ll proceed with the Magic in a moment?” setting his tools in a jar of sterilizer Alfred turned his latex gloves inside out over each other and tossed them in the medical waste bin.

  
“Of course you may Alfred,” Francois purred, “ eef I may ‘ave a pen and your paper work?”

  
Al grabbed the clipboard from his desk, and pushed it and a ballpoint pen into Francois’ waiting hands. As the senior scientist perused the first page Alfred tried to dispel his impatience by shifting his weight from one foot to another.

  
“Magnifique!” Francois proclaimed at length, “Only one problem. ‘ere you ‘ave only given a first name ‘Matt’. But no worries I fix that. Let us see…” he began scribbling after a moment, “Matthieu Bonnef-”

  
“-Aaaaah!” Alfred yelled snatching the clipboard, “Don’t just name him after yourself!”

  
Francois blinked at him and shrugged, “Well you could finish eet with o-i-s instead I suppose.” His accent slipped slightly at the end of the sentence and he seemed mildly put out.

  
Grimacing Alfred stared down at the clipboard. He could not have anything crossed out on a legal document, and writing up all the paper work again would be such a pain.  With a sigh he set the clipboard down on Matt’s abs and finished the name off.

 

“There, Matthieu Bonnefois, are you happy? Please just sign it now?” he offered the Frenchman the pen. Francois flashed him a beatific smile and signed the document with a flourish. Alfred wrinkled his nose slightly, there was actually a small heart dotting the ‘i’ in his colleague’s signature.

  
Francois lifted the clipboard and stroked the abdominal muscles beneath, practically crooning. Plucking the papers out of his hands Alfred smartly smacked the other’s wrist and maneuvered him away from Matt.

  
 Al set the signed papers back on his desk and gathered the ingredients necessary for the spell. He turned back to Francois, delight dancing in his blue eyes and far too many straight white teeth showing in his grin, “Now lets get this ritual rolling and start my baby up shall we?”  
  
***  
  
Alfred was delighted with the progress Matt made. Although the man had no memories to speak of, his summoned life force had left him with most basic knowledge like speech and walking and such. He would have to be educated but after two weeks of constant tests – god the man was as patient as his namesake – both physical and mental, Matthieu Bonnefois faculties all seemed to be in order. Alfred took him under his wing and Matt followed Al like a duckling – adoring, and very mistrustful of Francois. Alfred marked that down as a positive that the man had good natural instincts.   
  
Alfred enjoyed Matt immensely. He was a mite snarkier than Matthew and it made him good fun to tease because he gave back as good as he got.   
  
At the end of the assessment period, a party was planned where Matt would be ‘released to the public’. To the rest of the researchers at the facility at least, no judgment had yet been passed on whether such important information could go to the rest of the country yet.  
  
Alfred stood before Matthieu, straightening the man’s tie for the umpteenth time. Matt’s broad shouldered figure filled out the charcoal pinstriped suit Alfred had bought him to a T, and came in at the waist, cutting a stunning silhouette.  
  
 Smiling nervously as he untied and re-tied Matt’s tie, Alfred babbled on about the night’s proceedings.  
“-so then Francois will announce you and you’ll join me on stage. Say your bit. I’ll leave your speech cards on the podium for you and you can leave them there after so you don’t have to carry them round all night. Then we’ll circulate through the room together and I’ll introduce you to everyone. It should be great and I can show you off to that smug Williams-”

  
Matt caught Alfred’s hand and Al met his eyes. He hadn’t got that quite right. The eyes were a bit more purple than the odd, indigo shade Matthew Williams had.  
The broader man kept his gaze and pressed Alfred’s knuckles to his lips. “You’ve been mentioning this ‘Williams’ an awful lot today,” he rumbled, a soft baritone that Alfred had only ever heard raised in sarcasm. Another thing he had changed from the original. It was deliberate and a nice sound, but he regretted it a little. Al smiled at the other, quirking a brow, “ Are you jealous?” 

  
“Should I be?”  


Alfred’s smile broadened and he cupped Matt’s face, there was a five o’clock shadow on his jawline despite the fact Matt had shaved not two hours before. His hair grew darn fast. Alfred brought their lips together.

 

Matt’s lips were pliant beneath his and parted oh so easily, a flickering of tongues. Alfred pulled away as Matt started to lean in to him. He pushed his fingers into Matt’s long hair and gave a little tug that made Matt’s breath catch. Al leaned in and murmured into Matt’s ear, “Perhaps a little, he is your name sake after all.” He placed a kiss in the crook of Matt’s neck. Up to this point he had distinctly avoided telling Matt about Matthew. It was needless. Matt was superior anyway.  Until now the explanation had just been, ‘I was inspired to make you’.

As Al pulled back, he tugged loose the band that had been securing Matt’s hair at the base of his neck. Soft ginger-tinged hair fell about his face, almost golden in the light. Alfred beamed, “Wear your hair down after all, it’s too great not to show it off.”   
  
***  
   
Matt’s debut went off without a hitch. Al in his tux with his hair combed neatly back, circulated the room with Matt at his side. They made a fantastic pair and Alfred basked in the attention they both received. He’d be the first to admit he loved being in the limelight.  Matt spoke well, not a lot, Alfred was aware that he was not a great conversationalist. What did he really have to talk about other than a couple of books he had read, having only been alive for a couple of weeks? But he was making an effort and that pleased the American immensely.  
  
They were taking a break by the buffet, drinks in hand. Matt had unbuttoned his jacket as the night wore on the warmth in the room rose. Alfred had a glass of red halfway to his lips when a soft tenor sounded behind him, “Hello Al.”  
Alfred nearly inhaled his sip and hastily set his drink back on the table to turn and face his Canadian colleague. “Matthew!” He greeted, ultra casually, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes spread across his face, “Matthew, this is Matthieu Bonnefois,” he steered Matt forward with a hand on his broad shoulder, “my creation, partner, lover whatever term you prefer. Matt, this is Matthew Williams your name sake.”  


Matthew frowned slightly at him before offering Matt a hand, which the other took, “ A pleasure.”

  
As Matt replied, Al turned back to the buffet and downed half the glass he had put down before turning back. His blue eyes raked over Matthew’s body. Matthew was slimmer, still muscled, and not displeasing ,but Matt was definitely superior in that department.

  
Matthew almost immediately turned his attention back to Alfred, and for once the American found he could have done without the attention. He didn’t know where his wits had gone.

  
The Canadian’s expression was one of earnest concern, “Have you been eating Al? You’re looking rather thin.”

  
Alfred’s laugh was brittle and Matthew visibly flinched from the sound, but Al was oblivious, “Ha ha! I’m perfectly fine! May have lost a bit of muscle mass but Matt certainly found it!” he said giving Matt’s ass a firm and obvious squeeze, that actually made Matthieu jump slightly. As Matt cast him an incredulous look at this new and unprecedented behavior, Alfred laughed again and grabbed a handful of the base of Matt’s shirt, “I mean really have you seen how amazing I made this body?”  


“Al-” Matthew started to warn, but he was too slow, as Alfred yanked Matt’s short up to reveal his abs. The movement jostled Matthieu who still had wine in hand and it was only thanks to almost lightning reflexes the Matt maneuvered the glass away from all of them. The wine ended up only baptizing his hand and not all three of them in their finery.  


Alfred stood there awkwardly for a second with his hand on Matt’s revealed stomach then giggled nervously and withdrew. “Sorry ‘bout that!” He glanced around, desperately avoiding Matthew’s silent look that he could feel radiating concern and disapproval.  


“Oh look, I better go thank Francois or all of his support-” he bolted.  
“Alfred-!” Matthew tried to stop him, but the American was determined and disappeared swiftly into the crowd.  


Matthew Williams sighed and moved up to the buffet table. He had thought that he had let the American down lightly, but Alfred had been avoiding him for nearly two months, and he was acting… off. Matthew grabbed a serviette and offered it to Matt who was trying to delicately shake the red wine off his hand onto the carpet.  


“Here you are, hand me your glass.”   


“I’m sorry, thank you,” Matt said gruffly.

  
That voice did something funny to Matthew’s chest, but perhaps he was just feeling sorry for Matt for having to deal with Alfred.  


“I’m sorry about that, I didn’t think he would react so badly,” Matthew said, as the other wiped his strong broad hands off on the cloth.

  
“I feel like that should be my line, he’s my lover after all.”  


Matthew’s chest tightened. So that was the title Matt chose out of all the obnoxious ones Al had used to introduce him. He didn’t know why it bothered him. He had turned Alfred down after all. Al’s behavior just now only served to confirm he had made the right choice.

  
He took the serviette from Matt and put it aside on the buffet table then turned to lean against it, glancing at Matt as he did.

  
“That scar on your side…” Matthew began but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know how someone only a couple of weeks old had a scar like the one he had seen when Alfred lifted the other mans shirt.

  
“Oh this?” Matt appeared unperturbed, and lifted his rumpled white shirt a little to reveal the end of a long straight scar down his left hand side, “A creation scar. I was sewed together you know. The spell that brought me to life, sort of, knit everything together. Including my consciousness. But it left scars in a few places. Here, under my arms, the backs of my knees…” he shrugged and attempted to tuck his shirt back in but it was really impossible with a belt on. Eventually he gave up.

  
Matthew nodded, relieved. He didn’t know if he should feel guilty about having wondered if Al had subsequently inflicted them on the other man. Although Matt looked like he wouldn’t have a hard time defending himself…  


“What’s the relationship between you two if you don’t mind me asking?” Matt asked carefully.  


Matthew sighed. “We were friends once, and then…” he trailed off. They had gotten along so well for a time. Matthew had been surprised, actually. The American was engaging and high energy and everything he had expected not to like but it had worked. Matthew had even been encouraged to try things he usually wouldn’t. Other than hockey, he had never been one for sports but he’d gone along with Alfred on hikes, Ice-skating –Alfred had been awful at it – and skiing, though Matthew didn’t think he had ever felt that useless in his entire life. But even if he did fall on his face and get his hood string stuck in the ski lift – he had lived through it, and it had been fun.

 

But he was also not a fool. He could see how much Alfred loved himself. The other man was good fun as long as everyone was doing exactly what he wanted. Matthew was a nice guy and generally he went along with what most people wanted because he didn’t mind. However, he would dig in like a mule on things he had strong opinions about.

Dating Al was one of those things. Al was sulky for a week after Matthew turned him down the first time, but then seemed to bounce back. But always after that reveal Matthew was aware of Alfred wanting him. It was there in the innuendos passed off as humor and over familiar touches every single day. When Matthew got uncomfortable and pushed him away a couple of times the American got angry, and acted as though Matthew was being unreasonable. He would become surly and jealous when Matthew went out with other friends.

No all those signs had been clear indicators to Matthew that he’d made the right choice not climbing into bed with Al after that party.

  
He must have been quiet for too long because Matt prompted, “Lovers?”  
  
Matthew shook his head, “No, Al wanted more and I turned him down. We’d never work.”  
  
There was a moment of resting silence between them then Matthieu Bonnefois let out a long sigh, “Well now my entire existence makes sense.”   
  
Matthew startled, he really hadn’t known any of this? He cursed himself for not being more sensitive about the situation,  “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to imply-”

  
“No need to imply anything. Al modeled me after you, after all. That’s all there is to it.” He ran a hand through his long tresses.

 

Sure, Matthew granted, there was some facial similarity between them, but other than that Matt was built like a tank.

  
“I don’t see it.” The Canadian blurted, and when Matt arched an eyebrow at him, he waved a hand and hastened to explain himself, “I mean I’m a scrawny nerd, look at you - you’re like a Greek god!”

  
Matt blinked at him for a second, he had frozen with a hand still partway through carding through his own hair, and slowly a blush spread across his cheekbones. The broader man’s hand dropped to cover the lower part of his face as he looked down in embarrassment.

  
Matthew suddenly flushed; his comment may have been a little overboard. But as he eyed the other man’s face, he thought he saw his eyes had crinkle slightly as he smiled beneath his hand.

  
It took a moment, but then Matt looked up at him, with warmth in his purple hued eyes, “I think that I understand a little, why Alfred is in love with you.”  
  
***  
  
Matt was a great lover. Man he was really great, especially for a virgin who’d only been alive for two months but it wasn’t right. There was something missing, and the more satisfying the interaction the more it pissed Alfred off. Matt was doting. He insisted on carrying things for Alfred, assisted him in the lab and kept him company silently through his ever-increasing number of foul tempers. He embraced Al when he railed against the world. He tolerated the vitriolic verbal abuse Al hurled at him. And Alfred hated it. He had made himself something to love and it loved him, but he scorned it.

Occasionally he would say something particularly spiteful just to get a rise out of Matt, and be given the cold shoulder for it, but he would apologize and things would return to normal. Oh he never showed his anger in public, everything was sunshine and daisies then. He was especially blissful and adoring to Matt when Williams was walking down the same corridor or working in the same room.

  
And that’s how Matthew started to notice something was wrong. After chatting to Matt the night of the debut he had found the man easy to get along with. Indeed they could probably have been friends if Matt was not Alfred’s lover. If one was observing Alfred as they worked in the lab, one would assume they were blissfully happy. But Matthew looked a little harder at Matt’s reactions saw the down turned corners after a smile, the pained look he thought no one saw when Alfred used some strange endearing nickname he had clearly just made up on the spot.

  
Matthew saw it and he didn’t like it. On the rare occasion they passed each other alone in the hall Matthew always made a point to pause and ask Matt, “How are you?”

  
But Matt’s game was up and he was good at it when he knew he was being observed. Lord knew he was learning from the best faker around.  


It was on an afternoon nearly three months later, while Matthew was transporting a tray of samples to the lab, when he caught sight of Matt out in the garden, through the passage window and nearly dropped the tray. He hastily set it down on the floor, and, judging the door to be to far, climbed awkwardly out of the window, nearly tripping over his own limbs.  
  
He hurried across the lawn to where Matt was sitting alone on a concrete bench.  
“Bonnefois? What the hell happened to you?” he asked, although, he could already see some of it. Matt was sporting a black eye and a painful looking split lip.  
Matt looked up, purple eyes a stark contrast against the dark surrounding his eye. Swelling had already gone down a lot so it couldn’t be that fresh.

  
“Oh no, mom found me!” he tried to joke, but winced as his half smile pulled open the cut on his lip.

  
Matthew crouched in front of him, carefully examining his facial injuries. “Matt please answer me seriously?” he said firmly and muttered, “You haven’t tended to these at all have you?”

  
“Al and I had a bit of a disagreement… More like I said something, and he disagreed.” Matt sucked in a short breath as Matthew touched his face near the split lip and grunted slightly on the exhale, “Also Al’s at the house. Have you tried asking for help when you look like this and you’re me?” he pointed to his own face, “Normal people run screaming in the opposite direction.”

  
A scowl darkened Matthew’s features. He always suspected Al had it in him, but he had hoped the blond would never act on it. “You walked here from the house?” He pushed his glasses up his nose a little.

  
“It’s only five minutes away…”

  
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Matthew interrupted. Important questions first. He was seething with anger toward Al but Matt’s wellbeing came first.

  
“Well,” the long haired man paused, “Hurts a bit when I breathe or sit up too straight. But you should see the other guy.”

  
Matthews jaw tightened and he gritted out, “Lift your shirt”  


By the time he had felt along Matt’ s rib cage and established two potentially dislocated ribs a kind of cold fury had worked its way into Matthew’s indigo eyes.  


“Look, I’m not a doctor but I don’t think you’re dying.”  


“Good to know-”

 

“-I’m going to talk to Alfred. Wait here for me, I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”  
  
Matt barely had time to protest as Matthew William stormed off in the direction of the Jones household. His long legs carried him swiftly away.   
  
Matt cursed and stood, wincing and loped after Matthew. What was he thinking, confronting Alfred after he had just seen the American’s work on him? Matt was slow. His injuries meant he had to pause for breath a couple of times along the way. By the time he reached the open front door of the house, a full on shouting match was occurring inside. He grimaced and leaned against the wall, he’d be no use if he interrupted now so he remained outside and listened to make sure Matthew didn’t get hurt.  
  
“-may have a doctorate but you are worst sort of scum the earth has to offer!” Matthew was yelling. It was not a sound Matt had ever expected to hear of the soft spoken man, nor was it something he ever wished to hear again. “That man is a human being! He has been nothing but loyal to you, and you treat him worse than a dog! Don’t think I don’t know. Your neighbors talk, I’ve heard things!”   
  
“No one asked him to stay.” Alfred snarled back, “He’s perfectly free to get lost any time he likes.”   


It was true, Matt conceded Alfred never forced him to stay, but where would he go? He had no family, no money and no skills to earn it. He frowned down at the set of ribs that were obstructing his breathing. Could he learn to put up with this sort of thing? He certainly didn’t find the idea appealing.  


“Have you seen the state he’s in?” Matthew wasn’t done, “What the hell were you arguing about? Actually, never mind, it doesn’t even matter, because look at you! Not a scratch on you! I bet he didn’t fight back at all you bastard.”   
  
“That’s because he’s a coward like you,” Alfred’s voice rose in ire, “because I made the mistake of thinking it was a good idea to use your DNA, because I was in Love with your stupid ass!”   
  
“How can you say that, how can you have that attitude when you are supposed to be the one responsible for him?”   
  
“I brought him into this world I can take him out?” Alfred suggested, sourly.   
  
A resounding crack rent the air. Matt peered through the door jam and saw Alfred, head turned, pink lines blossoming across his cheek.

 

“Don’t ever come near him or me again.” The Canadian spat, “I’m taking him.”

Then whirled and marched out of the house.

  
“Mattie-” Matt said as the taller man passed him, though he wasn’t sure where the nickname had spouted from.

  
Promptly Matthew turned to face him, seeming not in the least surprised that Matt had followed him, and held out a hand.  
  
“Come with me if you want to live.” He said stiffly, paused, and then laughed tremulously.   
  
Matt had not in his short life, nor did he in the time to come, see anything that made his heart ache as much as Matthew’s face did just then.

  
 Furious tears welled in his blazing indigo eyes and spilled in angry rivulets down his flushed cheeks. His lips trembled, fighting to stay in a strong, set line rather than melting down into something of abject sadness.

  
“I’m only taking you if you want to come,” Matthew ground out. His voice, gravelly with emotion, sounded almost like Matt’s.  
  
Matt reached out and clasped the trembling hand and was pulled in close, his arm draped round Matthew’s shoulders as the taller man supported him.  
  
Matt drew in a deep shuddering breath and flinched at the stupidity of the movement.

Matthew glanced at him in concern as they moved away from the house.  
Matt offered him a weak smile, “Breathing’s hard,” he said, “But its better when I’m next to you."

  


**Author's Note:**

> AN/// Thats it, thanks for reading! I have a second part planned but we shall see how that goes :)///


End file.
